


Fit Foods: Eating Well for Life

by Evil_Little_Dog



Series: Little Things [176]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Community: fma_fic_contest, Gen, Healing, Hospitals, Humor, Missing Scene, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Alex Louis doesn't think Edward eats well enough and decides to take matters in his own hands.<br/>Disclaimer: Hiromu owns all.  I just futz around with her characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fit Foods: Eating Well for Life

“Edward Elric!” Major Armstrong boomed, the sound of his voice echoing through the hospital ward, despite the nurses all turning to hush him. “It is good to see you again!” 

The idea Armstrong might _hug_ him flittered through Edward’s mind and he winced in preparation. He might not be in as bad a shape as Alphonse, but his ribs wouldn’t tolerate an embrace. “It’s good to see you, too, Major,” he said, trying to plot the best escape. 

Armstrong swooped across the ward, one arm tucked behind his back. “Ah, but you look as if you’re faring well! Colonel Mustang suggested you were on death’s door.” 

Why would the bastard say that, Edward wondered, but didn’t bother asking. Mustang was a dick, it was that simple. “No, I’m doing all right. Are you sure he didn’t get me mixed up with Al?” He tried craning to figure out what Armstrong might be hiding.

“No, he said you were doing poorly here in the hospital,” Armstrong said, his mustache twitching. “I was telling him about the fresh vegetables we’re growing in the estate’s greenhouse. So I brought you some!” Whipping a huge basket from behind his back, he dropped it on the bed. The weight of it was enough to make the mattress – and Edward – bounce. “Look! Bell peppers and carrots and fresh beans. And potatoes!” 

Edward hoped Armstrong didn’t mean for him to eat them all right now. “Aheh…thanks, Major.” He saw radishes and turnips nestled in with lettuce and spinach and the glint of glass. Glass? Peering more closely, Edward felt his stomach twitch and his gorge start to rise. He swallowed hard. “Major, is that…” He pointed a trembling finger at the noxious white cow juice. 

“Milk, Edward Elric, to provide your bones with calcium for strength! You should drink it right now! It’s fresh and warm.” Armstrong plucked the bottle from the basket, popping the lid off and offering it to Edward. 

The smell of it curdled his stomach and wrinkled his nose. Edward screwed up his face, shuddering. “I can’t drink that – stuff, Major! It makes me sick!”

“Nonsense, Edward Elric, milk is an important part of a healing man’s diet! Take a swig! You’ll be glad you did!” 

The bottle pushed ever closer to his mouth, despite how Edward shoved back into the headboard. He jerked his head to the side and squinted his eyes. The awful stench wafted up to him. His stomach threatened to flip over. “I can’t!” 

Even as he exclaimed, Armstrong caught Edward’s nose in his thumb and forefinger. Edward had to open his mouth and as soon as he did, Armstrong poured the milk straight down his throat. The thick, nasty stuff slithered past his gag reflex, hitting his stomach as soon as Edward swallowed reflexively to clear his throat. His stomach twisted around the awful cow secretions and for a second, Edward thought he was safe. 

Until everything came back up in a rush. 

Edward groaned, the stink of vomited milk making him feel even worse. He spat out the words. “Damn it, Major, I can’t drink that crap!” 

“Oh, Edward Elric. This is just proof of your need for good foods!” Armstrong boomed as he transmuted the horrible sludge of cow juice and bile away. 

With a groan, Edward flopped back in his bed, wondering why in the hell he hadn’t decided to take Alphonse home to Risembool to heal. 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was to use the title of a book for the title of the story. This is what I came up with.


End file.
